Now, Don was the one laughing. His nephew Jack was cursing at his custom laptop.
“Impossible!”
Don swore that if that big man in the zombie suit survived, he would put him directly on his payroll and hope the man never learned he had been an associate in his attempted death. At this point, Don was titillated. The massive man slung the zombies around like rag dolls. The WHS team that worked the cameras must have been having a fit. His screen went black on several occasions, only to emerge again with another pummeling scene. He swore he felt his jaws rattle a couple of times.
“Don’t get cocky, Uncle. See, the man’s out of energy, and the zombies have just begun.”
It was a hard thing, watching the valiant man begin to die. The swarm covered the fighter. The screen didn’t pick up much of the picture, but it was pretty clear this battle was over. Don’s heart was heavy for a moment, and then something amazing happened. His view of the screen changed, and suddenly he was sailing through the air and crashing on top of a gravel roof. After the camera switched, the big man was on the lower roof and hustling over the side. Henry Bawkula was there, too.
“Yes!”
Jack sneered.
“That was just luck. Those people don’t have anywhere to run. No escape, and they are running out of ammo.”
“True, but it’s still getting closer to the dawn. Let me ask you something, Jack. Have you ever taken a moment to ever consider what it might be like if you were in there?”
“No. The only thing that matters is that I’m not in there.”
“Suppose that was you. Do you think you could survive? After all, you’re smarter than the zombies. What would you do?”
Don waited for the reply, but the only response was the man’s fingers moving feverishly over his keyboard.
“Well … I guess I’ll assume you would give up and die, then.”
“I’d think of something.”
“Ah … so, don’t you think they’ll think of something, as well?”
Jack threw his arms out in front of himself and said, “I don’t care what they think. It won’t matter. They won’t survive. No one has, so far.”
Wow! Don couldn’t help but worry about his status with the WHS. His nephew, someone that he had brought up within that organization, was now privy to information that he was not. His stomach soured as he ran his hand over his face. He became very cold.
Jack continued his gloating.
“How much do you really know about the zombies anyway, Don?”
It was an insult. He knew as much about zombies as anybody. What he knew about the functions of the XT Serum was another matter. Still, the question pissed him off.
“Here’s what I know. They are a virus. Man made. An abomination. Something that happens, I believe, when man is saturated by evil. Mindless and hungry with an appetite that cannot be satisfied. And like any other virus, they attack. Infect. Cells and flesh. In this more extreme case, the zombies are hunting blood. They want to infect it. Everyone thinks they are flesh eaters—like cannibals—but if that were the case we wouldn’t have any zombies. They would all consume themselves.
“Although I’ve always enjoyed the headlines … ZOMBIE EATS MAN’S BRAIN, all of that is bunk. Do you know how much pressure it would take to crack a human skull? How can a man bite into another man’s head? Our teeth aren’t designed to be can openers. If a zombie ever ate a brain, it was only because it had already been spilled. Besides, what’s the best way to kill a zombie? Pierce the brain. Why would a virus kill itself? No brains, no zombies.”
Jack was nodding.
“True. But you’ve got to love all of those old movies. I bet your generation never saw that becoming real.”
“We didn’t expect to land on the moon, either. Or have a bomb that could destroy an entire country.”
“Well, it looks like every generation has its achievements, some good and some bad. Real bad. Still, Uncle, I don’t think you are telling me everything you know about the zombies. The 101 segment doesn’t help. Can’t you at least tell me where they came from? Who created the virus? About the first outbreak?”
Don didn’t like the intensity in Jack’s voice. For a moment, his nephew looked like a man obsessed with something dark. He looked Jack in the eyes and said, “You seem to already know enough, Jack. You know things that I don’t even know. You’re doing things that I wouldn’t even consider. And now, you want me to share with you everything that I know?” He cleared his throat. “I do what I do because I have to. That doesn’t mean that I enjoy it. Look at you. People are dying, and you like it. Don’t you?”
Jack tore his eyes away saying, “No.”
“It sure seems like it.”
“Can’t you just tell me who you think is behind the outbreak?”
“No.”
“Do you even know?”
Don paused before he shook his head saying, “No.”
Jack hissed through his teeth and returned his interest back to his screen. Don checked his. Only the view of the fog remained. He was relieved.
Good
“Looks like they lost them, and the time's still ticking away.”
“They’ll sniff them out soon enough.”
Don hoped not.
“See look! They’re already on the trail.”
Don looked down at his screen just in time to see his zombie view getting run over by a Gator full of a bunch of shooting people. As exciting as that was, a troubling feeling remained. He was beginning to get a sinking feeling that he wasn’t holding the purse strings anymore. He looked over his shoulder. Oliver was still standing outside the car and smoking. Am I still in charge here? Maybe his nephew was … and he might be in trouble.